


Watercolors

by rosefox



Category: Original Work
Genre: Artists, College, Disabled Character, Disabled Character of Color, F/F, Female Character of Color, Flirting, Mermaids, Pre-Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-16 16:13:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13639764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosefox/pseuds/rosefox
Summary: "Your hair is pretty," she says. "Like watercolors."





	Watercolors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mementomoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mementomoe/gifts).



My favorite class is Life Drawing, even though I suck at it. I have to take it for my art major and I figured I'd get it out of the way my first semester. It's so hard! And Professor Lewis isn't mean or anything, but if she thinks your work is bad, she'll tell you right out in front of the whole class. So it would totally be my _least_ favorite class, except that Aviva Ben-Ari is in it, and I'm in love with her.

She's cute and smart and funny and I realize I sound like every single cliché but it's all true. One time she forgot her pencil case and I lent her one of my HBs and pulled a chunk off my kneaded eraser for her. She was really great about giving the pencil right back at the next class. She said she liked the eraser better than hers and I said she could keep it. We haven't really talked other than that, but everything she says to Professor Lewis sounds like she thought about it for a long time before figuring out how to make it come out just right. I say whatever comes into my head. She probably thinks I'm a total dork.

Today we've got this tall skinny model who's lying on their side with their right knee up and elbow sticking out. They're all angles. I can see Aviva trying her best, but she's erasing a lot. She likes curves. I mean, she likes drawing curves. I don't know whether she likes curvy girls. I hope she does, because that's basically what my tail is, one big curve.

I should be drawing the model, but I'm drawing Aviva instead, a little profile in the corner of the page. She's got this amazing wild curly black hair that just goes everywhere.

Suddenly Professor Lewis is right next to me, looking at my sketchbook. "That's better work than I've seen you do before," she says, "but not the correct subject. Your tuition is paying for this model, so I suggest you draw them rather than your classmates."

A few people giggle. I clap my hands to my cheeks; mermaids don't blush, obviously, but I picked up a lot of human mannerisms from watching TV.

Aviva looks up and sees me and Professor Lewis looking at her. She does blush, and looks away again. Ugh, now she definitely thinks I'm a total dork.

Professor Lewis is good about making sure the wheelies get spots near the door so we don't have to steer around all the desks. At the end of class, we're always the first ones out. Once I get into the hallway, I pull over by the wall and wait until Aviva wheels through the door. "Hey," I say, because I am very smooth.

"Oh, hey," she says, pulling over next to me.

"I'm sorry about drawing you without your permission," I say. "That was rude of me."

"It's cool, don't worry about it." She glances at my sketchbook. "Actually, can I see it?"

I want to yell "NO" and drive away as fast as my scooter can go, but instead I say "Sure" and flip it open so she can see my crappy sketch of the skinny model and, in the corner, a pencil study of Aviva's hair, with just a little hint of her profile.

"Oh wow," she says, "that's really good."

I pull my hair across my face to hide my pleased embarrassment. I probably look ridiculous. Mermaid body language makes no sense out of the water. "Thanks," I mumble around a mouthful of hair.

"Your hair is pretty," she says. "Like watercolors. Do you paint?"

I shove my hair back behind my ears, surprised. When I tell humans I'm an artist, usually they assume I do traditional arts like rock arrangements or basket-weaving. "Yeah, I do a lot of big splashy abstract stuff. Mostly oils."

She's got her head tilted a little to one side, studying me. "I'd love to do a watercolor of your hair," she says. "I think I've got just the right purple. Would you sit for me sometime?"

"Y-yeah!" In my mind I am very quietly screaming a lot. "Yeah, I'd be happy to."

"Cool." She scribbles her number along the edge of my sketchbook page. "Ping me and we'll figure out a time."

My internal screaming intensifies. "Sure, no problem," I say, trying to sound calm and friendly and definitely not like a sea monster that wants to eat her alive. You never know what rumors people have heard. "I've, uh, I've actually got some time now, if you want?"

Aviva shakes her head. Her curls bounce a little. I could do a hundred motion studies of them and never get them right. "I've got a physics lab," she says. "That's my major. I just do art as a hobby." She smiles lopsidedly. "You can probably tell by how awful my drawings are. I might drop the class."

"No, stick with it! You're doing great!" I gnaw on a knuckle. "If, if you ever want some tips or anything, I can try to help? Though honestly I'm not very good either."

Her smile gets bigger. "You're kidding, right?" She taps the sketchbook. "Look at this. You're miles ahead of me."

"You just don't like drawing angles, that's all," I say.

She blinks. "What do you mean?"

"When there's a curvy model, or the pose is more curved, you like it better. I've seen you. You go faster, your lines are smoother."

"I've never thought of it like that," she said. "But I guess you're right. I don't like sharp demarcations. I'm into liminal spaces, blending, shading, in-betweens."

I wiggle the tip of my tail at her. It's kind of a come-on, but she probably doesn't know that. "I can tell you a little about in-betweens," I say. "About what it's like to be that. If you want."

She laughs. "I'm biracial, I think I know! But actually I'd love that. You're a different kind of in-between than I am." She checks the time. "I really have to go, though, I can't be late for lab. Text me, okay?"

"Okay!" I wave as she wheels off, admiring her zippy sports chair. She's really fast even in the crowded hallway. I bet her arms are super strong. I love strong arms. I love them even better on her.

The hall slowly empties as the other students head to classes or dining halls or dorms. I wait until nearly everyone is gone so I don't have to worry about distracted people tripping over me. Then I head for the doors, my smile getting bigger and bigger. She gave me her number! She wants to paint me! She wants to _talk_ with me!

Before I lose my nerve, I send her a text with a couple of times when we could get together. She doesn't text back right away, but that's fine, she's got her lab, I can wait. I don't mind waiting.

Maybe she'll let me draw her too. Properly, not just in little stolen moments during class.

I am the luckiest fish in the ocean.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Karios for the beta!


End file.
